


Facing Fears

by waywardriot



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Forgiveness, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, but NO SPOILERS because i don’t know anything about the game yet either, technically post kh3, this is just speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-15 06:30:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17523602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardriot/pseuds/waywardriot
Summary: Really, Riku is happy—happier than he’s been in a long, long time. He feels safer in a place that’s familiar, with the people he’s known all his life by his side; however, that doesn’t mean he isn’t still plagued by the ghosts of his mistakes, his shortcomings. Eventually, he has to face the darkness that still lingers.





	Facing Fears

Really, Riku is happy—happier than he’s been in a long, long time. He feels safer in a place that’s familiar, with the people he’s known all his life by his side; however, that doesn’t mean he isn’t still plagued by the ghosts of his mistakes, his shortcomings.

They seem permanently attached to him, clinging to his very self like a shadow, chained to his ankles and holding him down; the only difference is that they only grow in the absence of light. Riku tries to avoid the darkness, afraid that his shadow will grow and grow and _grow_ until it opens its gaping maw and swallows him up, peeling away his very essence and reducing his body to dust.

He feels the darkness in his heart at all times. As much as he tries to cling to the light, keep his eyes on the brightness of his friends, it still cuts through him. It—he—is a small voice in his head, whispering in his ear that _he is always here, he will always drag him back for he_ belongs _to the darkness._

It creeps up on him most of all during the night, haunted by nightmares. Riku knows it’s horribly juvenile, but he sleeps with a nightlight—or even with the lights on during the worst nights—trying to keep the horrible images at bay. They always find him eventually, though, worming their way underneath his door like the monster he thought existed in his hallway when he was small.

He dreams over and over again about being swallowed; his friends, his family, his home are swallowed by the darkness until all that’s left is dust. Their hearts can’t escape in this case—there is no Traverse Town, there is nowhere to go besides into _the void._ Because of the darkness in his heart, he isn’t affected the same way in his nightmares. He gets to watch his loved ones fade before his eyes, holding his very best friends in his arms. Sora always presses a hand to his cheek, smiling at him and whispering words he can’t hear until he falls apart in particles of light that burn Riku when they touch him. Kairi holds his hand and whispers words of forgiveness, looking at him with softness in her eyes until her eyes are no more.

The worst of all is the sleep paralysis. He lays stock still in bed, unable to move anything but his eyes, darting around the dark room, waiting for _him_ to come. He is always there on time, one of the more reliable things in his life.

It’s the same every single time. Ansem stands at the end of his bed, staring at him with those piercing gold eyes and folded arms, taunting him. He doesn’t say anything, simply fixing him with a glare that stirs up the darkness inside him. One would typically think of gold as warm, inviting, sunlit, but his gold eyes are the most chilling things he’s ever felt.

This kind of darkness feels like it’s physically freezing him, covering his skin in a layer of frost and seeping down to his bones, turning his marrow to ice and making him shiver so hard that the bed shakes. The darkness curls around him, pumping through his body, veins slowly freezing as the darkness travels along him, unstoppably spurred along by his heart. His teeth chatter, part cold and part fear.

Ansem disappears after some time, fading into the background—though even when he’s gone, Riku can still feel his gaze. Even if he can’t see him, he’s always there. Always standing somewhere—if he turns fast enough, he can see him out of the corner of his eye, the guardian making a dark, foreboding figure.

He knows he has to fight the darkness by facing what’s inside of him, but it’s hard—possibly one of the hardest things that he has ever dealt with; he knows that his pain is almost entirely comprised of guilt. He has to encounter the outside first—apologize to the people that matter most.

* * *

Forgiveness from his friends is easy; Sora and Kairi love him unconditionally, and he knows that. He just doesn’t think he deserves it.

Soon after they all return home, together with no more stress for the first time in years, he apologizes to them; he just can’t take the nightmares anymore. First he goes to Kairi, for Sora will be harder for him, with the connection they have and all the things they’ve done together. He feels like he hurt Sora the most, and dealing with his forgiveness throughout all his own betrayal is going to be nothing short of painful, like tendrils digging into his chest and cracking open the cavity. He hates being vulnerable.

He finds Kairi on the beach, sitting with her feet in the water and head thrown back as she soaks in the sun. He stands there for a moment, hesitating as he twitches his feet, not sure if he should walk over to her or turn around and run.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” she smiles, not moving to look at Riku—he didn’t know that Kairi was able to tell he’s there; really, he should have guessed it, for she’s more intuitive than any of them are able to predict.

Riku pauses to take a deep breath, letting the scent of the ocean, so familiar and tempting, seep into his nose and his pores and every part of him. It calms him, reminds him of the simple days when he would play in the water with Sora and Kairi for hours, their young minds coming up with the most ridiculous things. What he wouldn’t give to have that once again.

“…Yeah,” is all he finally settles on.

She pats the spot next to her, inviting Riku to sit. He comes to her silently, the only sounds being the soft crunching of the sand under his shoes and the constant pull of the ocean.

They sit there quietly for some minutes, and Riku lets the bittersweet familiarity of the situation calm him; it hurts, yes, but it grounds him and reminds him that things aren’t always bad. When his head feels clear enough, cleansed by the serenity, he speaks.

“I’m sorry. For… everything.”

“It’s okay,” she smiles, completely expectedly. “It’s not your fault.”

“Some of it was mine. I abandoned you, and you really didn’t deserve that. I… used you as a tool, and then I forgot you.” he murmurs, suddenly choked up. His voice fails him, sucked down into his chest and trapped by his ribs.

Kairi takes his hand as a choked sob escapes him. He turns his head to the side, frantically using his free hand to wipe away the tears of anger and hurt and sadness that are beginning to fall down his face. Thankfully, Kairi doesn’t say anything, simply staring straight ahead at the ocean and idly playing with Riku’s fingers in a way that keeps him grounded.

This isn’t his normal breakdown, crying and screaming; this is soft and heart wrenching, not sickly when the darkness crawls up from his lungs. He gets through it quickly, feeling better with the small weight of emotions lifted. Lightly sniffing, he continues after clearing his throat several times, willing his voice to be released. “You know that you’re one of my dearest friends, right? I think I just forgot that. The darkness is so suffocating and made me forget you after Ansem claimed me. You didn’t deserve that.”

“That _wasn’t_ your fault!” Kairi insists with a kind of venom in her voice that Riku isn’t used to. In that moment, he realizes just how strong she’s become—she’s gone through so much since getting wrapped up with Xehanort and the darkness. “We were—are—children. You were preyed on, and you wouldn’t blame me if that happened to me, would you?

“It’s okay to have different feelings for your different friends. It’s not always going to be the same, and Sora was in the most danger! Your actions are understandable,” she finishes, running a hand through his hair in the way he always likes. Her hands used to be more delicate, but now they’re far more calloused, scratching on his scalp in a way pleasant way.

“No,” Riku sighs, knowing that she’s right; she has always been good with logic, tempering down Riku and Sora with her sweet smiles and assuring words. Of course, she’s foolish too sometimes, but she has an innate understanding that is far more advanced than theirs. She’s far wiser than anyone would expect from her exterior—Riku guesses that it’s a princess thing, though it has only grown since she entered the fray of battle. “I’m still sorry.”

“I know you are,” she smiles again, taking one hand between both of hers and squeezing it hard. “I forgive you.”

His heart still aches, but it feels like the tiniest weight, all but a gram, is lifted off his chest as he takes Kairi in a strong hug, comforted by her warmth and scent and how delicate she feels. He wants to protect her for the rest of his life with all of his being.

She hugs him back with all of her might, and he feels his chest squeezed by light instead of darkness, wrapping around his heart until he feels lightheaded and giddy.

“I owe you one. Or a million.”

Kairi smiles and pats his cheek. “I’ll get around to that, don’t worry!”

Riku gives a genuine smile in return.

* * *

Next is Sora. The one he’s hurt most of all. The one who deserves the entire world—no, all the worlds, the universe. If Riku could, he would rend the stars from the sky and give them to him as an infinite apology, one that will hold bright long after they are both freed from existence.

When Riku seeks him out, Sora is in the most normal place in the world. He’s sitting in his spot on the paopu tree and swinging his legs playfully as he watches the sunset. Riku takes a moment to just observe him, for he knows Sora is way too oblivious and scattered to notice him as Kairi did; this leaves him free to watch his best friend without any anxiety.

It lifts another weight off his chest to see Sora so happy and _safe._ He was so afraid he was going to lose him, see him fade away before his very eyes. But here he is, on the paopu tree, the descending sun lighting his hair in a warm halo.

After Riku has soaked in this peaceful sight, he joins Sora at the tree, jumping lightly over it and sitting on the trunk next to him in his usual spot. This again reminds him of the old days when things were painfully _normal._ What he wouldn’t give to erase his mistakes and go back to lounging on the paopu tree next to his best friends, staring into the ocean and wondering just what else is out there; though, this time, he would want it to be with childlike delight rather than impatience and anger.

“I’m sorry,” is all he’s able to start with, darkness choking his throat like black bile rising up and threatening to spill over. He knows the darkness isn’t literally going to come out of him, but he still feels like he could vomit it up at any moment, soak the sand with dark poison until he feels their island become corrupted.

“Huh? What are you apologizing for?” Sora asks, cocking his head in that oh-so-adorable way Riku loves. There are parts of Sora that haven’t changed a bit, but each piece is matched by another that has, warped for either good or bad.

Riku sighs heavily. “Y’know. Everything.”

“I’ve already told you it’s okay!” Sora chides with a lopsided smile on his face. “I know,” he continues, tapping his index finger right over Riku’s heart, “the real you.”

“Who is… the real me?”

“You’re brave and you teach me to push myself further. You’ve put my needs ahead of yours so many times…” Sora chokes up like Riku, the bottoms of his eyes lightly glazed with tears. “You put yourself in the darkness for me, you saved me from the depths of sleep… You—”

He falters, impatiently scrubbing at his face. “Do you understand?”

Riku hums. He does understand a little bit, he guesses. He tries to think about it in the perspective Kairi told him, as he knows he wouldn’t blame either of them if they did what he did. “I just did what I had to. To… atone for my mistakes.”

“You already have!” Sora smiles, throwing an arm around Riku’s shoulder and pulling him close. “I hate it when you blame yourself. Xehanort—Ansem—is the one to blame. Not you! You shouldn’t put yourself in danger for their evils.”

“I still brought the downfall of this world. People _died,_ Sora. Some of them can’t ever come back, and that’s—that’s going to weigh on my shoulders forever.”

“ _Ansem_ brought the downfall of this world. You were unhappy with how things were, but you’re not evil, not at all! You wouldn’t have let that happen if you were on your own. Ansem forced you on his side.”

Riku runs a shaky hand through his hair, still not used to how early it ends when he pulls his fingers through it. It’s so short now; he really has undergone so many changes in such a short amount of time. He had cut it to shed off the darkness, letting it fall to the floor with his inches and inches and inches of hair, sloughing it off like dandruff. “I guess. You’re just—one of the most important people to me, and I’ll do anything I can to protect you for the rest of my life.”

“I’m happy with what I have! If I need to be protected, you know I’ll be right there beside you!” Sora gives him one of those big smiles that seems like it could crack his face open, his entire _being_ shining through his face. He summons his Keyblade, appearing in a burst of light that can’t even rival his own smile, in Riku’s eyes. “I’ve fought as long as you, and I’m not backing off now—we’re meant to fight together.”

Riku finally gives a smile, and Sora lets out a small whoop of joy as he dismisses his Keyblade. “That’s the way! That’s the Riku I know.”

“Stop it, you big goof,” Riku grumbles. “I get it. Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Sora laughs, putting his hands behind his head—the echo of Ventus still there. “I’m just so grateful that we’re all back here! No more battles for now, hopefully; just you, me, Kairi, and the paopu tree.”

“…Yeah.” Riku leans into the hold as Sora places his arm back around his shoulder; he lets Sora run his hand through his hair as he thinks that maybe he should grow it out again, so that Sora and Kairi can braid his hair like they used to.

They sit there and watch the sun dip behind the waves, lighting the sea with crimson and orange. Before, maybe Riku would have thought it was the color of blood, but now… It’s the color of hope.

When darkness falls, blanketing everything in a way that normally suffocates Riku, he feels alive for once. He takes in a deep breath of the salty air and closes his eyes to feel the wind buffeting his hair slightly. He cries softly, nearly inaudible as tears run down his face. They’re tears of pain and guilt, but also of freedom and hope. Sora says nothing, continuing to card his hand through his hair; that’s all Riku needs right now, just the assurance that he’s not alone.

“You okay?” Sora asks gently after some time—Riku can’t see his face, but he can _feel_ the soft emotions on his face. Sora is vulnerable now, and Riku pulls him closer by his waist, leaning his head on his shoulder.

“Better than ever.”

* * *

With friends by his side, Riku knows he can face the darkness. Sora and Kairi hold his hands while he sleeps, keeping them all linked together like a lifeline; they won’t let themselves be torn apart again.

When his hands are clasped in theirs, his own freezing and seized up, he still manages to look Ansem in the eyes. He stands at the end of the bed still, eyes as cold as ever, but Riku’s hands are squeezed continuously, a silent encouragement to _stand up, do what needed to be done long ago._ And he finally does—he puffs out his chest and steadies himself as he screams as loud as he possibly can in his mind that **he is not afraid of him anymore, he will never be owned again, he is his own person who walks his own road—the road to dawn.**

He grits his teeth against his fear and anger and releases it; sometimes he goes to a cold world and lets it fade into the atmosphere, breathing his pain out like wisps of smoke that curl up and dissolve into nothingness. 

It takes years and years and _years_ of recovery, but one day he wakes up and realizes—there are no more nightmares, no more sleep paralysis, nothing. He feels a weight off his chest and weeps into his friends’ arms.

The darkness will always be there. That’s a fact of life that he has come to accept, for light begets darkness, and darkness is drawn to light. 

Instead, he knows that _he_ doesn’t beget darkness. His own light is there, pulsing in his chest like a burning star, and he learns to never let it go, just like the promise he once made.


End file.
